The Adventures of a Fishman and a Runaway
by soostache
Summary: "I have never heard of a world noble apologizing before," he said. "Let me introduce myself to you now, as a business partner. I am Fisher Tiger." She offered her hand through the bars. He took it and gave her a firm shake. "I hope this works." SI/OC
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own One Piece.**

* * *

 **Prologue: A Car Accident Like No Other**

Every year, people die in car accidents involving collision, whether from the inside of the car to the outside. One main cause of this is carelessness.

Edna Flowers died from carelessness. Mind you, she was neither inside or situated in front or beside the car when she died. She was under it. She barely started her automotive repair apprenticeship when the car she was identifying the parts of decided not to hold its weight anymore and sit on her. Or it may have been because she used a rather old and rusty jack to lift the car. It didn't matter now. All the money she put into college is wasted.

What mattered now, is that she woke up in a vaguely familiar place, with unfamiliar faces, in a time where the world she lived in is far behind and the world she knew of lies in the future.

* * *

 **1 - The Saint**

She was three when Roswald Castro started noticing the white mask she wore on her face.

He watched passively as his oldest child walked by to her room, the only sign of her acknowledgement to her father was a slight nod in his direction. Her slave, a wiry girl with freckles shuffled after her. His daughter paused, head turning slightly towards her slave. Although Roswald cannot see her expression, he could imagine the scowl on her face.

"Did no one teach you how to walk?" Her icy voice filtered through the mask. "I will not have a slave who will cramp my style. Stand properly, or I will have a metal rod tied to your back so you will never slouch again."

He felt proud as she turned back and continued towards her room. The slave wordlessly straightened up and marched after her. He chuckled to himself, and barked at his servants to prepare clothes for him.

* * *

"That hours of practice paid off, didn't it?"

Saint Grandiosa Castro, eldest daughter of Saint Roswald Castro, took of her mask and faced her slave, a girl with the name Dina.

"Dina, so? What do you think," the three-year-old asked, face shining with sweat. "I'll have to wear this for at least a few months, then everyone will forget what I look like."

The freckled slave shrugged. "I think Mistress is going to have to wear that longer than a few months."

"Geez, you overestimate my family too much," the girl answered. "They never use their brains, so it's more likely that they will forget. And what did I say about calling me mistress? Honestly, you make me feel so old."

Dina gulped nervously. "I'm s-sorry, Master Grandiosa."

"Ughh, I told you to call me Grant. And drop the 'Master'." I'm three years old, not some kink master," Grant sighed and jumped on her bed. It was rather late at night, and she had more plotting to do in the morning. She closed her eyes, and drifted to sleep.

Chuckling lightly, Dina took the mask and placed it on the noble's bedside table, and pulled the blankets over her.

Meanwhile, Grant dreamt.

* * *

"What a horrid way to die," Grant muttered to herself.

"What was it dear?" Her mother, joyful and pregnant, asked.

She was four years old. The whole family (Roswald) decided it was the perfect time to go and terrorize the commoners at Sabaody, and decided to come to the auction. Her father had thought that they were running out of slaves, and that they should get more. After all, all that money that they had should go somewhere, right?

"Nothing," she said curtly. Inwardly, she thought about the lives lost in their little paradise in Mariejois, and now they are bringing more lambs to slaughter. She thought about Dina, who was brought to her a couple of years before, half-beaten and starved. She thought about the pirate captains in her father's collection, those who had dreams, who had comrades, who had freedom. She thought about the slave who was torn apart by beasts for her uncle's amusement. She thought about the slave who ended his life in the night, before the bed of her cousin. She thought about the beautiful woman who cried and plead, who had a family she will never see again. Now, there they were, gathering more to misery.

"Next! Our Special Item for today!"

Grant sighed in relief. Finally, it's almost over.

"Hailing from Fishman Island, renowned adventurer, and ruler of Fishman District, Fisher Tiger!"

She nearly jumped of her seat. It was him. It was definitely _**the**_ Fisher Tiger, the one who will bring salvation to the suffering. He looked intact enough, and there is defiance burning in those round eyes of his. She glanced at her father, and saw him smiling wide. She hid her own grin.

"400,000,000 beli!" Her father shouted. There were murmurs, and unintelligible chatter among the other bidders. The auctioneer himself looked overjoyed at the prospect.

"Father, can I have him?" She tugged on his side. Saint Roswald shook her off, muttering under his breath about her. She stared up at him, trying to appeal to him with her "but I'm four and I'm cute" approach, be he spared no glance at her.

She pouted, and looked back at the fishman, who was now staring angrily at them. "He's not even a pirate captain," she complained out loud. _At least not yet._

* * *

On the way home, Grant saw her ticket out of Mariejois.

Near the docks, in one of the tight alleyways, huddled a small child, no older than her, dressed in rags, staring at her as she walked past. She noted the similar shade of black their hair shared, and the dark eyes they both posses. She stopped, and her parents paused. The cart dragging along Tiger Fisher's cage moved ahead.

"What is it dear?"

Ignoring her mother's query, she approached the small child, who backed up in fear. "Get back here, Grandiosa," her mother scolded. "It might touch you!"

"Where are your parents?" Grant ignored her mother, in that same superior tone her father always has.

"Mommy gone…" the child muttered. Grant raised an eyebrow behind her mask. "Is that so? Do you have a family?"

"Family?" The child asked. She considered it for a moment, then shook her head.

"Perfect," Grant smiled through her guilt. She turned to her irritated-looking parents.

"Can I go back to the auction house to get another collar?" She asked. She tilted her head towards the child. "I want this."

* * *

It took a bit of convincing for her parents to let her go back with just a little child who will soon be her slave, and a single guard. Both look uncertain with her, and to be honest, she feels the same way herself.

She felt sweat run down from behind her mask and wished that she brought Dina along with her. But Dina had other jobs to do, she reminded herself, and I have mine.

She straightened herself and walked into the closed auction house, where the owner was counting his money on the edge of the stage.

She stood there for a few moments, trying not to fidget. She felt herself sweat more. 'W-what the heck do I say?' she thought.

Grant decided to clear her throat as loudly as she can (it sounded more like a choke), and finally the man turned.

"Y-your–"

"Save it," she cut off. It always makes her feel embarrassed whenever someone goes and calls her some title like 'Your Highness', or 'Your Excellency'. It's just too much.

"I brought a slave that I want. Put a collar on it," Grant ordered. The child jumped, her frightened eyes seeking hers. Grant tried not to glance at her, or show any remorse. It was for both their sakes.

Hidden behind a mask, she closed her eyes as they dragged the child kicking and crying.

The child stood beside the noble, held in place by her guard. She had stopped struggling, but she still cried silently.

"You will have to be cleaned before I have any real use for you," Grant told her.

She dug into her pockets, and took out a considerably large amount of money, and handed it to the slave trader. "Give me another collar, and the blueprints for it. If I find another one I might like, I will put the collar on it myself."

The slave trader looked dubious. "B-but it is highly dangerous a-and–"

"Are you questioning me, or are you saying that your collars are defective?" Grant cut in harshly.

"Of course not–"

"Give me the collar and its blueprints." The man shut his mouth, and nodded nervously.

He came back five minutes later with a collar and a roll of parchment. Grant unfolded the parchment and examined the collar. "It all seems to be in order," she said. The man released a breath of relief. "But your hesitation earlier calls for me to make sure this works. Perhaps I shall try it now? What do you say, Mr Slaver? Would you care to be my dummy?"

The man shook his head, "No-I mean, it works well, your excellency–"

"Whatever. Let's go." She turned her back and walked out. She silently released her own sigh of relief. She may hate acting like her family to get what she wants, but is damn well good at it.

"Baby steps," she whispers to herself.

* * *

"Dina, I'm hooooommeee~" Grant sing-songed as she entered her room, dragging her new slave behind her. The child whose name she still doesn't know had stopped crying, and was instead rather dazed at the prospect of living in a mansion (albeit as a slave). She released her hold on the child and stowed the collar and blueprints in a sealed drawer.

"Dina?" Grant called out again when she realized no one had answered. "Dina, where are you?"

She checked her bathroom, and ran to her closet-room, and even to her playroom, but there was no sight of her freckled slave.

"Stay here and don't move if you don't wanna get hurt," she absentmindedly told the child, and left the room, making sure to close the door behind her.

Checking every room, nook, and cranny, of her family's portion of Mariejois yielded no result for her. The next family over is the Torono family, and she hated them because they all talked more than her father when he's drunk. Before she could take one step into their wing, however, she heard someone clear their throat behind her.

"Looking for this, dear cousin?"

Grant turned around and suppressed a gasp. Gino Recesvinto, one of her distant cousins, stood there, his face looking as pointy as the style of his hair, and his coldblooded little hands tangled into Dina's haphazardly cut hair. The slave was hardly bruised, but her clothes were torn, and her hair messed up, and one of her eyebrows are missing. There was also a slight cut near her temple, where she hadn't stopped bleeding.

"What have you done to her?" Grant asked coldly. Gino ('that bastard, Gino… I will kill him one day,' she thought) let go of Dina and shrugged. "I knew you liked pretty things, so I helped improve her face. Beautiful, isn't it?"

Grant reigned in her anger, and stood right next to Dina. "Dina. Stand up. You may look like that, but you still have work to do." She averted her eyes when the girl she considered her friend looked up at her with a hurt expression. A few beats, and Dina stood and walked back to Grant's room, head bowed.

Grant glared up at Gino. He's about ten years her senior, but he acts like he's the toddler. He had a steady smirk on, like he was really proud of his work. He reached for her mask, but she slapped his hand away. "Don't touch my possessions," she glared. "Next time you go and take what's mine, I will make you lose something important."

He cocked an eyebrow and leaned in to her level. She hated the superior look on his face. She will smash it in one day. "Wait till you're older, little girl."

He turned and walked away, smirk plastered on his face, leaving Grant fuming behind him.

* * *

"Dina, oh no, my sweet jellyfish, what did he do to you?" Grant said as soon as she entered her room and locked her door behind her. The new slave stood awkwardly at the foot of her bed, fiddling with the hem of her filthy rags. Dina was on the floor, sobbing. Grant knelt beside her and rubbed circles on her back.

"I-I was j-just fetching your c-clothes," Dina cried. "He p-pulled me and started–he had a knife, h-he said it was n-new, given to him b-by a visiting admiral…"

"Shh," Grant hugged her. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, sweetie."

"B-but now t-that I'm u-ugly, Saint R-roswald is going t-to ki–get rid of me."

Grant paused. While she does what she can to keep her slaves separate from everyone else', her father still has the final say on who gets to stay and who has to disappear. She will have to play the "I'm your spoiled daughter" card again, and throw a massive fit if he even thinks of getting rid of Dina.

"I won't let anything bad happen to you, Dina," Grant says. "Trust me."

She let her friend cry until she calmed down before introducing the addition to her slaves.

"What is your name?" Grant asks the young child. The child shrugs. "Dun have one."

"Then, I shall christen thee, Grandiosa One! One for short. Is that okay?"

The child looked confused. "Wha?"

Grant sighs. "Your name is now Grandiosa One. I will call you One, okay?"

The child tilted her head. "My name is Gran'iosa?"

"Grandiosa One. One for short," Grant said, face-palming. "This is going to be hard."

* * *

"Alright, first order of business," Grant announced to the two slaves seated on her bed. Grandiosa One was wrapped in towels, having been forced to bath thoroughly by other slaves that Grant called in. Dina was fiddling with the short strands of hair she now has. Grant cut them evenly herself, and although it doesn't look as good as Dina's previously shoulder length hair, it was far better than the uneven jagged strands that her cousin tore through with a knife. Her remaining eyebrow had also been plucked thin, and shaded in with makeup, to match the one drawn in on the other side of her face. It served to make her more doll-like, and helped with the excuse Grant made up to her father.

"Dina, you will be my super secret super teacher secret."

"What?" Dina frowned. "what does that mean?"

"It means, uhmm, that you and One here will bond in my room while I go wandering about and poking my nose into everyone's business, like the Torono Family, and I'll tell you all about what I find."

Dina looked a bit green at the thought of knowing more than she's allowed. Then she remembered the first part of Grant's sentence. "What do you mean bond?"

Grant smiled and took of her mask, and placed it over One's face. Dina blinked, then her mouth dropped open. "T-this is… why?"

"It doesn't matter why," Grant dismissed. "I don't plan on staying here, but I don't want to end up like the Donquixote family. You have to teach One how it is to be me."

Dina furrowed her eyebrows. She's never heard of the 'Donquixote' family, but something bad must have happened to them.

"I will leave, but I will come back," Grant continued. "And when I do come back, I promise that I will free you, Dina. You before anyone else."

A fresh wave of tears fell from Dina's eyes.

* * *

It was months before Grant was finally able to get a glimpse of Fisher Tiger. The fishman was bruised and weary when she saw him, and she could tell by the drying blood sticking on his back that he must have been severely punished many times. The fiery look in his eyes has yet to be extinguished, she noted. Stubbornness and failed escape attempts, perhaps?

As soon as she was in hearing distance, she cried out, "Eww Daddy, what is that ugly thing?"

"It's just one of Daddy's slaves, Grandiosa," the noble reassured his daughter. She pretended to look really grossed out, and forced a shiver. "He smells bad too," she pointed out. "It hurts my eyes and nose. I feel like my senses are being drowned."

"Grandiosa, Daddy will decide when he wants it to be washed, okay? It is not you who decides, it's Daddy. Now go back to your room and play with your dolls."

Grant grit her teeth behind a smile. She knew when not to push her father to do what she wants, and this is one of those times. "Okay, Daddy."

She slowly walked past her father, staring at Fisher Tiger. When they met eyes, she grabbed at her mask and revealed a small little doodle on her cheek, scribbled on with eyeliner. She hoped it hadn't smudged. Grant adjusted the mask back on her face, only getting a glimpse of the fishman's confused expression before she passed him completely.

* * *

"Now, if someone says 'you're a precocious little girl, aren't you,' what do you say?"

"Dunno."

Dina closed her eyes and sighed. One, who might have looked startlingly like Grant if she haven't seen her face in months (she sees them everyday in the confines of her room), is not interested in learning at all. They have also been forcing her to wear a mask like Grant, so that she could get used to it. The only relief that Dina has, is that Grant's prolonged contact with One influenced the slave girl's mannerisms.

"You tell them 'And you're quite a nosy old codger'. One, are you even trying?" Grant said from her bed, where she was fiddling with a collar. The blueprint was spread out in front of her, and various tools were scattered beside her.

"What's precocious?" One asked.

"It means you're a smartass kid," Grant replied. "Aha! I finally got it!"

Grant squealed and jumped up and down her bed, narrowly avoiding getting stabbed by various screwdrivers.

"Okay girls, gather around," she beckoned, as she grabbed a stuffed bear. (It was one of the gifts from that hateful jackass Gino. What did he expect? A 'Thank you?') She put the collar on the bear. "Now pretend this is one of you. Although it wouldn't be hard for me to imagine, because you are both soft and cuddly!"

Both Dina and One flushed.

"Anyway, what I have to do is open the thing up by unscrewing this weird long thing, stick in some rod that i could use to unlock the mechanism that keeps this metal around your neck and hopefully get it off within 2 minutes. Now I just have to practice."

Grant showed them a thin crochet needle that she stuck in the small rectangular hole and started fiddling with the inside of the collar.

"Why is it only 2 minutes?" One asked.

"Good question," Grant answered. "It takes the collar 1 minute to recognize that it is being tampered when I stick the stick in the hole, and one minute for the countdown before the bomb explodes in my face."

To Dina's horror, the collar beeped once. Then another. Then another.

"Grant!"

"What's that beeping?" One asked. "What's a bomb?"

Dina tried to grab the bear off Grant's hands, but the younger girl dodged, still fiddling with the collar. "Hold on, I almost got it."

"Grant, throw that out the window. You're going to die!"

With one last twist of the metal stick, the collar deactivated, and the latch keeping the collar around the bear's neck snapped open. "See?" Grant dangled the collar in front of Dina. "Have faith in me."

Dina stared, shocked, with her mouth wide open.

"What's a bomb?" One repeated.

* * *

Grant stalked as silently as she could down to the dungeons underneath Mariejois. She had offhandedly heard of Fisher Tiger being punished again for some transgressions. Grant assumed he tried to escape again. She waited for a few hours, before trying her luck at sneaking off to see the imprisoned slave. She ducked behind a cabinet when she heard a guard walk by, and resumed her walk.

Trying not to trip on her dress, Grant surveyed the old dungeon. It seems fairly new, with paved white tiles (and some tell-tale streaks of blood) rather than dusty bare ground.

There was also a lack of sinister cobwebs that should hang down. Grant shook her head. Her family's standards always ruin the atmosphere. She continued to walk, glancing side to side to look for the fishman. The forced cleanliness and renovation of an ancient dungeon took away it's dready character. It was just like her family that they always try to disappoint her with something like cleaning up cobwebs.

Finally, she encountered Fisher Tiger. He was down on the ground on his back, his arms and legs spread out. There was dried blood crusting on the side of his face.

"Excuse me, Mr Fisher Tiger? Are you awake?" Grant whispered nervously. The fishman was unresponsive. She crept closer and crouched down near his head.

"Mr Fisher Tiger. Psst. Mr Fisher Tiger, please wake up. Psst. Psst."

His eyes snapped wide open and met her quivering ones.

"Uhm, hi," she greeted, wrapping her arms around herself. "It's pretty cold in here, huh?"

"What do you want, human child?" He sat up, rubbing his temples, and turned to face her.

Grant took off her mask, and smiled hesitantly. "Well, I was thinking, you don't like being a slave, I don't like slavery, maybe we can do, um, you know, something? Like, I do something for you, you do something for me kind of thing–um I'm not trying to blackmail you or something but, you know, I kinda do want something from you, and I know I can help you with what you want, and stuff, like business partners, or something. Um, I understand if you don't like me, or hate me, or something, I mean it's okay if you don't want to help me either, I was still gonna help you anyway–"

"You are rambling," Fisher Tiger interrupted.

Grant chuckled nervously. "I, uhh, I guess I am. Sorry."

"But I understand the reason why you came here. What is it that you want from me?"

"Well, uhm, I was thinking… Have you heard of haki?" Fisher Tiger's eyes narrowed. She bowed her head and tried to look anywhere but at him. "What I mean is, uhm, do you have haki?"

A sudden cold feeling erupted inside Grant, a sort of suffocating fear that threatened to lose her consciousness. She suddenly can't breath, and cold sweat ran down her back. She shivered, and forced herself to look at Fisher Tiger, despite her shaking. Suddenly, the feeling stopped, but there was a lingering chill that stayed in her body.

"Does that answer your question?"

"W-wow," Grant said. "That was amazing! Teach me!" She clapped a hand over her mouth and looked around. Nobody heard her outburst. She leaned in close to Fisher Tiger's cage, and whispered. "Teeeaaachhh meeee."

Fisher Tiger leaned back, an eyebrow raised.

"Seriously, I'll do what you say. I'll help you escape, uhm, in a year? I'll tell you all the routes you can take, and I can tell you all of the secrets I know about my family. I'll do it, no matter how long it takes!" Grant hissed through the bars, eyes shining.

"A year?" Fisher Tiger asked. "You can do it now, can you not?"

"I made plans, Mr Fisher Tiger. If I leave prematurely, I will lose my connections to Mariejois, and I will not be able to help anyone at all. You know, like the Donquixote Family?"

"Leave?"

"Well, yeah," Grant shrugged. "I don't think I can learn haki in a year. I'll have to go with you, right?"

Fisher Tiger paused and looked closer at the child who had come to offer him escape. He remembered when she had passed by him a few months before, giving him a clumsy sign of her support. A small key drawn on the corner of her cheek, and a hesitant smile. Fisher Tiger cracked a smile of his own and began to laugh.

"I have never heard of a world noble apologizing before," he said. "Let me introduce myself to you now, as a business partner. I am Fisher Tiger."

"And I am Saint Grant–uhm, Grandiosa Castro." She offered her hand through the bars. He took it and gave her a firm shake. "I hope this works."


	2. Chapter 2

**This is a bit shorter than the previous chapter, so I'm sorry.**

 **Also thank you so much for the people who went and favorited, followed, and reviewed. I never thought I would even get readers. Thank you so much!**

 **I don't own One Piece.**

* * *

 **2- The Escape**

There was a knock on the door.

Grant sat up her bed, trying to fight the nervous chill running down her back. She got up and tiptoed to her door, and cracked it open just a little to see who was on the other side.

"Hello darling," her mother greeted, looking pristine despite the weariness of her eyes. She was already dressed in her night clothes. Her new baby brother, Charloss, must have been put to sleep already. "Would you mind if Mommy sleeps here tonight?"

Grant opened the door and let her mother in.

* * *

"What happened mommy?"

Grant cuddled close to her mother, feeling a numbness inside her. She felt bad for cozying up to someone who loved her, without feeling the same in return. 'But she looks like she needs this,' she thought. 'I could at least give her this.'

"It's… nothing, my little princess. Mommy just had a small scary dream."

They both drifted off to sleep.

In the sea of nothingness, Grant saw a bright light that pulled her out of her sleep. Her eyes snapped open, confused and disoriented. Her mother stood over her, gazing, her hand stroking the side of her face.

"I almost forgot what you look like," her mother says. "You look so much like your father. But I almost can't remember."

Grant gulped. Is this what she really came for? She will have to make sure that her mother will forget again.

"Mommy, please go back to sleep."

"Alright, alright."

And lights are out.

* * *

"One, are you ready?"

"What do you think?"

Grant clapped her hands together. "Exactly what I would say! Now keep up with that attitude. You do remember everything I told you about everyone, right?"

One nodded, fixing the mask on her face. Today was going to be her first time as Grandiosa, and they have practiced long and hard for this moment. Grant clasped One's shoulders.

"I am putting all my faith in you, One. You can do this. I know it."

One nodded, and Grant hugged her close, ignoring the frightened beating of her heart, and hoped that One wouldn't feel it.

"Your heart's beating so fast."

"I, uhhh, I'm just excited, hehe."

Before One left, Grant turned to Dina. "Dina," she started. "Please look over her."

She was silent. Her hair had grown long enough to reach her jaw, and her eyebrows had grown back. She still looked nervous, but that's how she looked all the time.

"Grant," Dina whispered softly. "What if–"

"This will work," Grant interrupted. "This will work, and from here on, One will be Grandiosa and I will be gone. But I will come back for you, I promise." Grant gave Dina a hug of her own, with a little squeeze to emphasize how much this means to both of them.

Watching both of them go, Grant felt another wave of sadness for lying to the two people she cared about in this place.

* * *

"You know, I never thought I would live to see the start of the Great Age of Pirates," Grant says offhandedly. She was leaning on the bars of Fisher Tiger's cell as he read the newspaper she brought for him. "I couldn't believe that I would outlive someone like Gol D. Roger. He just seemed so full of… hmm… fighting spirit?"

"A man like Roger would never give his life up like this for no reason. Many others share your sentiment," Fisher replied. He was on the part of the paper talking about some other pirate escaping from Impel Down.

"Maybe he's sick?" Grant suggested, knowing full well of the truth. "Maybe he's dying, and he doesn't want to die as a sick man, but rather as the man he still is."

Fisher lowered the newspaper to stare at Grant. "I never pegged philosophy as a subject the Celestial Dragons taught their children. And at your age too. Exactly how old are you again?"

"I'm turning seven, and please, philosophy is banned in this palace. It tends to question the authority of the family, and most importantly, my parents. I try to keep my mouth shut and my opinions to myself. I rather not be indoctrinated on the "right" ways of handling other people."

Fisher was silent for a moment. "You share your opinions with me."

Grant turned to him. "I tell you my opinions, because I know that we share some of them to a certain extent."

There was a short lull in that dungeon, where the adult fishman tried to solve the puzzle in front of him, but lacked the pieces to view the whole picture. After a moment, he scoffed and went back to the newspaper. "I don't believe you're six years old at all," he muttered.

* * *

"How was it?" Grant asked nervously. Dina was lying facedown on a small pond of stuffed toys in the corner of Grant's room, where she collapsed on the moment she walked in.

"I never ate that much food, ever!" One exclaimed excitedly. "Your mommy kept staring though."

Grant grit her teeth and paced around her room. "Did she mention anything about last night?"

One shook her head. "Nope. But she did pat my head when I passed by."

"That's good. Dina, are you okay?"

Dina sat up and scratched the sides of her head. "That was frightening! I don't know if I can keep doing this. The fear is making me paler, and I think your father is noticing!"

"One, what do you say?"

"'I like pale dolls.' Uhm.. I think?" One replied.

"Good job," Grant smiled. " From now on, you are Grandiosa, and you will be out and about, doing everything that I used to do. And um.. don't eat too much. See Dina? Everything is fine."

Dina looked up at Grant with quivering eyes. "If you say so…"

* * *

The next time Grant sneaked back in the dungeon, Fisher Tiger wasn't there. She trudged back up to her family's area, when she bumped into another Celestial Dragon. She tried not to sigh when the adult woman whose name she didn't care to remember starter talking to her.

"That's strange, I thought I saw you in the dancing hall just moments ago. How did you get here so fast?"

Grant blinked up at her, eyes wide. "Is that so?" She struggled to keep the panic off her voice. "I guess I am fast."

"You shouldn't be running in the halls-"

Grant turned and briskly walked to her room, ignoring the sputtered exclamation of her not-so-distant relative. She tried not to feel angry, but she couldn't keep the downward turn of her lips. She ducked into hallways, and paused near doors to make sure she doesn't pass by anyone else. She was almost to her family's area when she heard the approaching arguments of her parents. She leaned back, keeping her back pressed to the door she was hiding at, but straining to hear the fight.

"There' something wron–"

"She's perfectly fine–

"–acting just like Homing–"

"YOU ARE BEING RIDICULOUS, MARIA!"

Grant flinched at her father's harsh tone. She heard her mother gasp, and a short pause.

"I know that you were close to that blasphemous scum, but do not ever compare our daughter to him," her father said. So they were talking about her. "She knows her duty as a higher being, and she knows not to go against our family legacy."

She heard her mother sob. "She's too tolerant of these–these insects that we gave her!" Grant took a moment to realize they were talking about the slaves.

"If that is what you are worried about, then maybe it is time for her to prove her pride to us."

The two nobles walked past, and Grant stood there, wondering what her parents had planned for her friends.

* * *

When she got to her room, Dina was seated at the foot of her bed reading a book, and One was dressing herself up with one of her fancier dresses. Grant angrily locked the door and stomped towards One. She grabbed the other girl and turned to face her. One yelped, and Dina turned to face them, shocked.

"What do you think you were doing out without my permission?" Grant hissed. Dina, slowly put the book down on her bed, silently watching.

"Did you even think about what you were doing? You could have gotten both of us killed! You could have ruined my plans, and destroyed everyone's only chance of leaving this hellhole! Did you even think about what would have happened if someone saw both of us at the same time? Use your brain! I did not take you from the streets and let you live here so you can ruin everything for everyone!"

"G-Grant, please stop!"

Grant didn't realize that she was shaking a crying One, and that Dina had been pulling her back.

Grant let go of One, shocked at what she was doing. "Oh my god… Sweetie, I-I'm sorry…"

She turned to Dina, who recoiled and looked away. It hurt her, and she tried not to cry. She really was just as bad as her parents, and everyone else in her family. She was so dead set in proving that she was nothing like them, but now that she looked back, all that she had done to get her plan moving was terrible. 'All for the greater good, right?'

"My parents are planning something," she said. She took her mask off and wiped her face. "Something about proving my pride to my family. Since you want to go out without restrictions so much, One, you will be Grandiosa, and I will pose as your slave. Dina, you should get ready too."

She walked past the two and into her closet and picked out something slave-ish to wear. If she was to go around as her own slave, she might as well make it believable. She felt her long hair and grimaced. She will have a lot of things to let go of.

* * *

Grant kept her face down as she and Dina were dragged along by their necks. Her messily cut hair hung down her eyes and down to the nape of her neck where her hairline ended. The chain attached to each of their collars were held by her her father, who had a cruel smirk on her face. On his other side, One shuffled nervously behind the towering hulk of a fishman. Fisher Tiger glanced back and forth at her and One, understanding in his eyes. She gave him a small smile behind her dark hair.

Roswald pushed the two of them into a darkly lit, sweltering room, where a couple of other nobles stood, with their own slaves by their side. In the corner, a dusty-looking man was bowing, on his knees. To his left was a forge.

Fisher Tiger suddenly growled, and faced her father. She had never seen him look that angry, not even when he was sold and collared.

"I do not like the way you are looking at me, slave," Roswald warned the fishman.

Fisher bared his teeth. "They are too young! You cannot do this to the–" he was cut off with a crackle, and his collar sent a visible spark of electricity running down his body. Grant gasped, eyes watering in fear and anger. Beside her, she heard Dina start sobbing. Fisher fell, unconscious. He will probably get sent to the dungeon again and punished severely.

"A rebellious slave should be a dead slave," a new voice dropped in. Grant glanced at the two other nobles and grimaced. It was the Recesvintos, both father and son.

"This one is a rare one," Roswald answered jokingly, kicking Fisher on the side. "Taking your boy to do his first time as well?"

"This is my second time, sir," Gino Recesvinto answered, flashing a smile at One, who did not respond, her face turned to Fisher. Grant wanted to shiver in disgust.

"Your daughter is starting young?"

One jumped when Roswald clapped her in the shoulder. "My girl is a mature one. She's ready."

We were pushed along near the forge and my blood chilled when Grant saw what was in it. Dina whimpered. She barely heard my father call for some servants to force us down, nor did she hear Dina cry and plead. Grant's head was pushed down, her temple hitting the stone ground roughly, and all Grant could see was One's pale face and trembling lips. She saw Roswald hand a smoldering rod to the little girl, who would have been in her position had she made a different decision. She felt the ungentle hands grab the back of her clothes and rip them apart. She felt the regretful fear that One has, her hand closed around the end of the rod. She felt the petrifying fear that Dina has, as she sobbed on the ground.

She felt One search her face for something, a sign, an instruction, something to save her. Grant mouthed to words, watching One's face morph into betrayed fear. She closed her eyes so she did not have to see anymore.

'Do it,' she mouthed at One.

As the burning reminder of everything wrong in the world was engraved into her back, Grant screamed, not in pain, but in anger.

* * *

That evening, Dina and One huddled beside Grant. One leant on Grant's shoulder while Dina was on her side, her face huddled on Grant's stomach. Dina had cried herself to sleep, but One was still awake by her side, tears streaming silently.

"W-was this your plan too?" One whispered. Grant tried not to look at the throbbing symbol on Dina's back. Her own was stinging painfully, keeping her awake.

"No…" she said. "Never…"

"I hate this…" One whispered. Her voice broke. "But I'm glad it wasn't me."

"I'm glad too," Grant whispered back, her arm wrapping around One and squeezing.

* * *

"You shouldn't be here in this condition," Fisher's voice rasped in the darkness of the dungeon.

"I-it's not that bad," Grant tried to smile reassuringly, ignoring the sting on her back whenever her clothes touch the burnt area. "It's healing pretty quick, so it should be good when we escape tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Grant nodded. She took out a long metal rod she hid on her leg. "I should be able to get that collar off you before we leave."

She slipped the rod through the bars and laid it down on a corner so no one can see. "The two of us will be free tomorrow. You should get some rest today. We have a long day tomorrow."

"Your father…"

"I have no father, Mr Fisher Tiger," Grant replied. "I am Grant, a slave. And soon I will be free."

"Who was that other girl?" Fisher asked. "You look almost exactly the same."

"Her name is Saint Grandiosa Castro, my master," her voice broke. "She was a girl named One, who I picked up near the docks of Sabaody. She is my friend, and I am abandoning her in the hands of my family." For the first time, Grant let tears flow from her eyes. "This is my plan, but I can't help but feel so angry," she sobbed. "A part of me was hoping that they… that Roswald would at least recognize who I was, even if it meant I failed. They're my family. Are they really that ignorant? Maybe I was asking for too much. And I feel so terrible that One had to do that to me and to Dina, she's so young, and now, she will always remember how it is like to condemn the people you care about. I hate this. I hate them. I hate this, so, so much."

By this point, she was down her knees, her forearms on the ground and her face in her hands. She breathed in short gasps, and the heaving of her chest is making her clothes rub painfully on her back. A rugged hand reached out to her and pat her head softly.

"You are a smart human, especially for a child," Fisher whispered. "But you can't do everything."

* * *

Grant shoved her collar under her bed. 'Or is it One's bed now?'

"I'm going now," she stood, her back to One and Dina, who were seated on the bed. "Wait for me, okay?"

None of them answered. Grant bit her lip and left, not letting the tears in her eyes fall. She left her room, the only safe place she ever knew in her second life, not knowing when she will come back. She navigated quickly to the dungeon, ducking and sprinting through the hallway, pausing for the occasional passersby. She skipped down a couple of steps, nearly missing her footing and running into a passing guard. She stuck to the wall and glanced over to Fisher's cell and was surprised to find that her fath– that Roswald was there, muttering things while Fisher growled and grunted. Grant clapped both her hands over her mouth to prevent the yell threatening to leave her mouth when she heard the sound of searing flesh and smelt burnt skin.

She stood there in the shadows for what seemed like hours, and at one point, Roswald had gotten bored of burning Fisher and started lashing him instead. Grant wanted to curl up and cover her ears, or even jump out and kill the man hurting the fishman, but she stayed where she was, trying to ignore the pained sounds Fisher was making. Finally, it stopped, and she heard shuffling, and the sound of a cell door opening and closing. She pressed back against the wall when the approaching footsteps veered dangerously near her, and passed right by the wall she was hiding. She almost missed the set of keys dangling carelessly out of Roswald's back pocket when she glared hatingly at him. She stepped out and swiped it out without thinking, wrapping the keys with both hands to make sure there was sound. Roswald wandered away, and Grant sighed in relief. As soon as she deemed it safe, she bolted out and ran to Fisher's cell.

The fishman was lying stomach-down on the floor, blood spreading on his already filthy clothes. Grant struggled, hands shaking wildly, to try each of the keys, until his cell door opened on the fourth try.

"Mr Fisher Tiger," Grant shook him. His eyes snapped open. "You should have come later. He's only on a bathroom break."

Grant grit her teeth and tried all of the keys on her, and they all failed to open Fisher's collar. She tossed them aside and grabbed the rod she hid the night before. She hastily unscrewed a part of the collar off and stuck the rod in, fiddling with the mechanism inside. The warning beeps were dangerously speeding up and she was shaking so hard–

"Calm down," Fisher said.

"I am calm," she snapped, and pushed down roughly on the rod. Fisher's collar snapped open, and clattered uselessly on the ground. Fisher dragged himself up, eyebrows furrowed. From the distance, Grant heard the door opening and knew Roswald was on his way back.

"We have to kill him," she said. "I will have to kill him. You are a fishman. If you kill a Celestial Dragon, all the humans and the government will wage war on your people. I will do it."

Fisher gripped her shoulder. She looked up at him, and saw disapproval. "Killing him won't solve anything," he said to her. "It will just leave you a scar that will never heal. We will run."

He picked her up under his arm and sprinted to the stairs, where they barreled over Roswald, who yelped and fell off the stairs, unconscious.

"I guess that works too," Grant muttered. "Left!"

Fisher bolted left ignoring the shocked screams and surprised yells around them, only listening to the shouted instructions of Grant. At one point, Grant thought she saw a glimpse of Dina and One, but she pushed it to the back of her mind. With her instructions, she led Fisher into the back of the palace, and urged him to keep running. There is a high possibility of a Gorosei meeting at the roof, and they both don't know enough about any of the members of the Gorosei to stick around.

"Can you jump over the fence?" Grant asked, peeking over Fisher's arm to the mess behind them.

"There's nowhere to jump to–!"

Grant smacked him lightly in the stomach. "We're jumping into the sea!" She couldn't keep the trembling fear off her voice.

"It's more than 50 meters high," Fisher yelled at her. She grinned back. "Then I will be setting quite the record. If I survive, I could say that I jumped off the Red Line. Won't that be grand?"

"You are impossible!" Fisher replied, as he took a big step, knees bending down, and pushing off the ground, sending both of them rocketing over the fence, and plummeting them into the vast sea. It was then that Grant regretted all her decisions.

"I'm going to break a lot of bones!"

"What?"

"I'm going to die!"

"What?"

"Fuuuuuuuuccckkkkk! I was so not ready for this at all!"

She blacked out the moment they both hit the surface of the water.


	3. Chapter 3

**Oh my goodness you guys. You are all such wonderful, magnificent, beautiful people. Thank you so much, to all you readers, and to those who favorited, followed, and reviewed. You are all appreciated.**

 **I don't own One Piece.**

* * *

3 - **The Mend**

Grant opened her eyes to gentle rocking and the sweet scent of the sea. She blinked tiredly at the auburn-colored skies and wondered what the hell just happened to her. She can feel her entire back, from her head to toe, wet and pruning. Her face, chest arms and legs, on the other hand, feel like they have been cooked on a grill. She squeezed her eyes shut and groaned. How did she get there? What did she do? Did she mess up? She can't remember.

Grant laid still, sorting through her scrambled and confused brain. She was at dinner, and she played with One… No, she had lessons after dinner. Or was it lunch? Then her father made One do something terrible to her… And she had her dance lessons? No. That can't be right. She visited Fisher Tiger…

Fisher Tiger! Her eyes fluttered open. The last thing she remembered was visiting him, and telling him about their escape. Then… How exactly did they escape?

"M.. missste…" she rasped. She tried to turn her head, but a painful stinging pain cut through her shoulder, and her vision blanked out for a moment. She wheezed, and tears gathered in the corner of her eyes. She could not contain her whimpers of pain, even after the unbearable pain faded after a while.

"Mister Fisher," she whispered. Tears blurred her vision of the sky. "Mister Fisher Tiger. Mister Fisher Tiger Mister Fisher. Where. Please. Please. Miste-"

* * *

 _"You have to eat…"_

 _"It hurts. It hurts."_

 _"I know, but you have to endure. Help will come soon."_

 _"It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts."_

 _"You have to stay alive. You have come too far."_

 _…_

 _"Alright, you have to rest. Just close your eyes."_

 _"...hurts.."_

* * *

"Mister Fisher! I was going to find you to talk about our escape, but I suddenly found myself here!"

"Grant, what are you saying?"

"I was thinking, we should escape tomorrow, but it really hurts to move…"

"We already escaped."

"What."

"We already ran, and we jumped off the Red Line."

"I.. I-I don't…"

"Calm down."

"I can't move. It hurts. What happened to me?"

"Take a deep breath and calm down. You broke a bone in your chest or shoulder."

"Oh my god. Oh my god."

"Calm down. Take deep breaths."

"I… okay. I'm calm. I'm calm."

"You are also sunburned badly. I forgot humans do not have the same protection from the sun as my people. I accidentally left you out the whole day."

"Oh. uhm. It's okay, I guess…"

* * *

Grant blinked. The sky was dark, but the stars lit the night. The gentle rolling of the waves accompanied the breezy lullaby of the winds. It was beautiful. Grant sighed, wondering about if she had ever seen anything more amazing than the sky that moment. Her eyes drooped, but she forced them open. ' _Come to think of it, where am I?_ ' she wondered. ' _And my back is wet_.'

Cringing in discomfort, the girl tried to roll on her side, but a pain, something like getting stabbed by a hot knife, erupted in her left shoulder. She gasped, rolling back, her mouth open in a silent scream. She took a big gulp of air, and tried to breath in and out quickly through her nose, to alleviate the pain. In addition to the sudden pain, she had gotten a glimpse of a wide horizon of water.

No islands. No boats.

Just the vast, empty sea.

She moved her arm to grasp at her chest in panic, and a new wave of pain made her arm fall uselessly back to her side. She panted, frightened, as her eyes darted from side to side. Suddenly she doesn't care about the stars anymore.

She was alone, and hurt. She can't even move.

"Where... Help," she whispered. "Help. Help. Help me. Someone please."

* * *

 _"Here. You have to drink at least."_

 _"I'm so tired…"_

 _"Help is coming soon. Stay strong."_

 _"...Where are you going?"_

 _"Help will come soon. Just hold on, a bit longer."_

 _"No no no nonononono. Don't leave me. No. Don't leave me. I'm scared. I'm scared."_

* * *

"I can't move. I can't move. Dina! One!" Grant yelled at the dark sky fading into yellow, ignoring the dryness of her throat. "Whoever did this, this is not funny!"

It had been a few minutes since Grant woke up in some part of the sea. It was painful to move, and she had tried yelling for someone to get her. ' _Is this a new kind of hazing the Celestial Assholes came up with?_ ' Grant thought. ' _Why would they do this to me?_ '

Her thoughts was interrupted by the loud growl of her stomach. Grant struggled to peek over her nose without hurting herself.

"Strange…" she muttered. "I've never been this hungry before." She paused for a moment. "In fact… I've never been hungry before!"

She wiggled her toes, the only thing she can do other than move her hands, and tried to think of why she was there in the first place.

"Maybe a dream?" she asked.

"That can't be, Grant. This kind of scenario hurts too much to be a dream," she replied.

"A test?"

"Test?"

"Maybe they found out you were too nice."

"I don't see how making me hurt and starving me in the sea could be a test."

"Maybe you ate some nasty shrooms and you are having hallucinations of being unable to move in the middle of the sea?"

"Doesn't make sense. If I really did eat some shrooms, I wouldn't still be hungry right now."

"That's right, we are hungry."

"I almost forgot."

"Same."

"It was a good conversation."

"It was somehow pointless. Anyway, I have to go, Grant."

"I'll see you later, Grant."

The girl lying down on the floating raft in the middle of nowhere watched the colors in the sky change.

* * *

"That's…"

Grant stared with wide eyes at the towering figure over her tiny little girl raft. The humongous shadow made it seem like it was suddenly night in her area of the sea. She swallowed and prayed to whatever ocean deity was around to spare her from more excruciating pain.

The glistening scales of the whale sea king glistened under its shadows, and she doesn't know whether she should be impressed or terrified. The sea creature simply stayed still right beside her raft, and had not moved for several minutes now. And she knows it had been staring at her. The iris of its giant eyes was pointed directly at her, unblinking. Its unflinching stare unnerved her.

Gathering up her courage after nearly 3 minutes of internal conflict, she shouted out.

"What do you want, you great lump?!" It didn't move, nor give any sign of reacting to her.

"I'm talking to you, creepy-ass shithead!" she ignored the frightened squeak of her voice. "Go away or eat me or kill me or whatever. I don't give a fuck!"

"Big words for a cripple," a deep gravelly voice interrupted her. Her eyes darted to the side, and her head tilted just enough not to hurt her.

"I-I'm not a cripple," she argued. "Everything just hurts, that's all." The position of her head did not allow her to see who was talking to her, no matter how hard she strained her eyes to see.

"Fisher, you did not tell me she's just a child!" A female voice cut in, and there was a sound of a palm hitting someone's cheek. "OW!"

"My Q-"

"You should not do that again." It was a familiar voice. Grant risked the pain and tilted her head further up and saw four fishmen floating near her head. It was Fisher Tiger, with a manly mermaid with a scar on his forehead, a golden blonde fishwoman holding a bruised hand, and a nervous-looking green fishman. Her eyes burned with joy and hurt from her shoulder. Fisher Tiger did not return her brief gaze, but she was still glad to see him.

"Did we do it? Did we escape?" Grant sobbed through her smile and quick breaths.

"Escape?" the scar merman asked. "From where?"

"That's not important right now. We have to get her some help," Fisher replied to the others.

"Y-yes, we must!"

"How did we do it?" Grant asked. "Did we go through the sewers? I don't smell bad though."

"She's talking nonsense now. Her head hit the water pretty hard."

She felt a cool wet hand gently caress her cheek. "It's alright now," the female said. "You're safe. Just sleep."

Grant's eyes slowly closed. "Sounds like a plan…"

* * *

"How are you?"

It has been a couple of weeks since Grant was brought into Fishman Island. She often had to constantly remind herself that she had already escaped. Despite that, she often finds herself wanting to escape from her family, then realizing she was already free. She found the residents rather agreeable, especially Queen Otohime, who she had shared a couple of conversations. She admired the queen, remembering something about the woman being a strong activist. She had heard from somewhere that the queen herself had requested for the construction of the room she was staying in. Apparently, everywhere else was not "human-friendly".

Now, there she was, strong enough to sit up without hurting herself, and reading local literature. Fisher Tiger walked in with a tray of food in one hand.

Grant greeted Fisher with a wide smile. "Mister Fisher! I haven't seen you in a while. I'm feeling great now. Fishmen medicine sure is amazing. I'm healing way faster than normal. I swear I couldn't move last week. Soon I can go with you and train like we promised."

For some strange reason, Fisher looked frownier than usual. It ticked Grant off for some reason. Before the fishman could respond, Grant swung her feet off the bed, and she stumbled angrily towards the fishman.

"You don't look that happy to see me," Grant snapped. "I'll take that so you don't have to bother with me." She reached for the tray with one hand. Fisher held it up high and suddenly grabbed her by the back of her collar. She then realized she had nearly toppled over. She shakily straightened her legs and forced herself to stand without swaying.

"Thanks…"

Fisher forced her to sit back on her bed and put the tray in her lap.

"Tell me the last thing you remember," Fisher suddenly said. Grant tilted her head. "Uhm, okay?"

Grant's eyebrows furrowed in thought. Before Fisher got there… "I was reading this book Queen Otohime gave me. It's about a man who sets books on fire." He seemed satisfied with that answer, but he asked again, this time about the day before.

"Hmm… Queen Otohime brought her three children… and… we ate. Then they left and I started reading the book I have now. Queen Otohime lent it to me. It's about a mermaid who was cursed to look old…"

Grant showed the book, and realized that it was completely different. She frowned and opened the book. "I haven't read this yet. Did Queen Otohime bring this while I was asleep? She's too kind!"

Fisher snatched the book from her hands. It was the book about the man who set books on fire. "That's enough. Finish your food, and then we can take a short walk outside."

The girl looked down at her half-eaten food. "I'm not hungry…"

"You should finish that. I cooked it myself, you know."

Grant looked up. Queen Otohime was standing over her with a glass of water in one hand. She looked beside her. Fisher was gone. So was the book the queen lent her. "The book?"

"Oh, sorry about that, but the doctor said you should not be reading. It's not good for your brain at the moment. I'm sorry for lending you those. I didn't know," the queen suddenly start tearing up. "But they said you are getting better. It should be alright for you to go around without me or Fisher following you around."

"Um," Grant started. "That's weird… I was just talking to him… He brought me food?" She looked down and poked at the fresh seaweed and sliced fruits on her tray. It was also a different-looking tray. And come to think of it, she's not wearing the same clothes. "And he brought me noodles… I thought I was eating noodles?"

She looked up to the queen, feeling cold. "What happened to me?"

Queen Otohime smiled sadly and pet her shoulder. It doesn't hurt anymore. "You're healing," she said. "Don't worry, you will be fine soon."

* * *

"How long have I really been here already?" Grant asked Fisher one day. "It feels like I have been here for a few months… But I know it is not the case."

The two was strolling around Mermaid Cove in the afternoon. The sun above the surface was still blazing hot, but the temperature around the island stayed cool. Fishmen and merpeople frolicked about, but there was no other human in sight. Grant thought she remembered hearing about this area of the island being a tourist spot, although she does not remember where. Before, she was always met with a lot of strange stares and judging looks, but as she went out more, people had gotten used to her and ignored her instead.

"..." Fisher glanced at her. "You've gotten a lot better. You used to always forget, and now, you can even remember what you were doing two weeks ago at this time."

"Eh not really."

Fisher paused for a bit. Then he said,"You have been here for almost two years now."

Grant stopped. Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened. "Holy shit," she breathed. "I'm… I'm nine. I thought I just turned eight!"

She jumped and twirled, ignoring the nagging voice in the back of her head crying 'I'm 29! I'm 29 now!'

"I'm nine and I'm better now! Why haven't you started training me?" she asked Fisher. "I've been doing well for like, months! I think I'm ready."

"No," Fisher said sternly. "You will not be learning anything from me until I believe you are healthy. As a matter of fact, I cannot teach you anything at the moment, because I will be leaving."

"What?"

"I am going with my crew to run an errand. I won't be back for a long time…" Fisher rubbed his chin in thought. "You should be good once I get back."

"No." Grant said. "No, this isn't right… Wait! Is Queen Otohime pregnant now?"

Heads swiveled to her direction, and she clamped a hand over her mouth. A couple of fishmen gave her suspicious looks. She smiled nervously at them. She turned back to Fisher. "Ah, I mean… um Is it alright if I come and visit Queen Otohime?"

"What does the queen have to do with this?"

"I-I…" Grant muttered nervously. She remembered Shirahoshi already being born when Fisher had gone to free the slaves. If Fisher decides that now was the best time to go and climb the wall, she knew that something will change. Something big and dangerous. She bit her lip. It was her fault. Fisher was supposed to be trapped in Mariejois for several years. **Several**. He only stayed for two. She broke him out far too early than she should have. Despite the cool gentle wind breezing through the area, Grant felt sweat form on her face. ' _Oh man_.' she thought. ' _I messed up. I messed up bad_.'

Fisher suddenly crouched down to her level and inspected her face. "You're sweating."

"Uh yeah, it's suddenly hot. Weird, right?"

He narrowed his eyes. "You only sweat when you are nervous or in trouble."

"Ahahahah," Grant averted her eyes. A bead of sweat rolled down her cheek. "What, no way."

"You told me."

Grant cursed herself inwardly. "W-well, I helped you, so now you have to help me! You can't leave me here, you're the one who brought me here!"

"You cannot stop me."

"I'm your responsibility!"

"Only because you were hurt," Fisher snapped. He stood straight and began walking back to the direction of Grant's place. "That is enough. You will stay here and rest, and I will be back."

"You can't free them without me."

Fisher frowned down at her. Grant willed all the fake confidence she had and gulped. "You need my help. Many things can go wrong, and they will. I know Mariejois, and I know how to remove the collars. You will need my help, and I am here, offering it to you. As long as you stay here a while longer and train me."

Fisher didn't say anything. Then he bowed his head, and his shoulders started shaking. "Haha.." He was laughing. He lifted his head and his eyes bored right into Grant's shaky ones.

"Humans really are greedy. You think that because you helped me once, I owe you more? You saved my life, and in turn I have saved yours." He strode in front of Grant, towering over her. "My people are stuck there. I know some of them, grew up with them. I will not let them rot in that place any longer than I did. I will do anything I can to get them out of there. If you really think I need your help for that, you have really misunderstood me. I do not need you to sneak me in, or unlock their collars. I will go there, and I will break their chains, and I will burn everything in my way. I will not train you until they are free. I will not let them suffer any more while I waste my time helping a human get strong enough to hurt others."

He turned and stormed off, leaving Grant alone with her regret.

* * *

"On your first year here, you were doing so terribly," Queen Otohime said. It was evening already, and the queen herself had come to visit the only human in the island. She had already eaten with her family, but had gone directly to Grant to check on the young girl. They were seated around a small table, and Grant ate slowly while she listened. "You were hurting so bad, and you keep forgetting who we were. Fisher was the one who looked after you."

"Sometimes you would just wake up and start muttering about your family. You hated them, you said. They were cruel, and heartless, and they didn't value anything other than themselves. It really saddened me when I heard that. I don't know where you came from, or why you were hurt so bad, because Fisher Tiger wouldn't say a word about you, but I believed that even if your family seemed that way to you, they must still have loved you. It also made me sad that you hated them enough to leave and get really hurt. But even though you were alone here, Fisher was always there. I wondered what kind of relationship you have with him. He spoke to you, even though you never replied. He was there when you weren't, even when your eyes were open and empty. Sometimes you cried out, and sometimes scolded him for not visiting you, even if he never left your side, and sometimes you simply stopped and stared through him, as if he weren't there. Often, you would forget where you are and start crying, and he would pat you once in the head. He had never expressed such care toward a human before. I don't know what you did, or how you met, but I can see that you do care for each other. So, I do advise you, as someone who cares for both of you, that you must mend your relationship. Separating during a bad argument will let the negative feelings fester. Aside from that, I have nothing else for you. It is up to the both of you to take action."

"I'm a tiny miniature version of the species Fisher hates. I don't know what I could ever tell him that would make him consider forgiving me," Grant admitted.

The queen smiled. "Start small."

* * *

"By the way, um, my queen?"

"Yes?"

"Are you pregnant?"

"..."

"..."

"No, I am not."

"Oh. Okay."

* * *

Grant tried not to breath too loudly despite the noise outside her hiding place. It was the day Fisher planned to leave, as she heard from Queen Otohime, because Fisher had not visited her once since the day she tried to convince him not to break his tortured friends out from rich people hell.

She wrapped her arms around her legs as she mulled over what the queen had told her before, about Fisher caring about her. She didn't think that was the case. It's true, they had spent quite some time in each other's friendly company, even when she still lived in Mariejois. Now that she thought about it, aside from the other fishman slaves in Mariejois, who were forbidden to communicate with each other anyway, she was the one Fisher was always able to talk to and banter with occasionally. She remembered the conversations they had in the dungeon, the empathetic feeling they shared breaking through the big metal bars of Fisher's cage.

' _There's no better way to bond than to shit talk about people you equally hate_ ,' Grant thought. She and Fisher had gotten closer through their equal hate for the nobility, and she knew it ended at that. Queen Otohime, on the other hand, believed that there was something better than hating the same people going on with the two of them. ' _It's like she thinks we're friends or something..._ ' Grant thought. ' _Hmm... I could probably bring myself to care about Fisher, but I don't think he would want to be friends with me... I mean, I was just using him to escape..._ '

She extended her arms and gripped the surface on either of her side. The floor was moving, and she could feel the pressure changing in her ears. She nearly toppled over when her hiding place suddenly moved sideways. ' _It seems they finally started moving..._ '

"...rate for another exciting adventure!"

"Because Boss is back!"

"Yeahhhh!"

"Let's do this!"

"To the Boss!"

Grant pressed her ear to the side, straining to hear among the faint chatter and the loud cheering outside.

"Bring out the booze!"

"On it."

Grant tried to listen more, but her hiding place was suddenly toppled to the side. Grant yelped when a particularly violent hit from the side sent her hiding place rolling to a certain direction, taking her along with it.

There was a loud thud, and her hiding place stopped rolling. Grant didn't. She hit the side, and felt dizzy.

"Did you hear that?"

"Yeah, it didn't sound like booze."

"What's supposed to be here?"

"We can-"

Grant pushed the lid of her hiding place out and she crawled out of the barrel, smelling of spilled alcohol, and feeling like she had just spun around inside a barrel. Which she had.

She turned green, and puked right onto someone's nice, frightening, big feet.

"Oh whoops. Sorry about that..." Still feeling dizzy and regretting all her decisions up to that moment, she wiped her mouth and looked up to see whose beautiful feet did she just empty her stomach contents in.

She looked up at Jinbe.

"Oh god."


End file.
